The Woman’s Edit

Beauty · Lifestyle · Fashion

I spent hundreds trying to find a lipstick that didn't make my 60-year-old lips look dry. I was solving the wrong problem.

I blamed my wrinkles, my lipstick and my age. Turns out, I was putting colour over the wrong surface.

Margaret R.
August 2026
4.9/5 Rating | TOP BLOG POST THIS MONTH | 1,422+ Saves

Let me start with something I genuinely believed for years:

Lipstick was making me look older.

Not makeup in general.

A little foundation still made me feel polished.

Blush helped.

Mascara opened my eyes.

But lipstick?

That had become a completely different story.

Every shade looked beautiful in the tube.

Then I put it on my lips.

And suddenly I could see EVERYTHING.

Every line.

Every dry patch.

Every tiny piece of flaky skin I hadn't even noticed five minutes earlier.

The colour would cling to some spots and disappear from others.

Anything matte made my lips look about ten years older.

Anything glossy would slide around and bleed at the edges.

So naturally, I blamed the lipstick.

And I bought another one.

Then another.

Then another.

“Hydrating.”

“Creamy.”

“For mature lips.”

“Infused with oils.”

“Plumping.”

“Moisture-lock.”

I've bought them all.

And somewhere along the way, my bathroom drawer became a little graveyard of lipsticks I loved...

but didn't wear.

Because after enough disappointing mornings in the mirror, I came to a conclusion I never actually said out loud:

Maybe lipstick just doesn't look good on women my age anymore.

And that thought bothered me more than it probably should have.

Because I've always loved lipstick.

Not bright red.

Not anything dramatic.

Just a little colour.

Rose.

Berry.

Soft mauve.

The kind that makes your whole face look more alive.

Lipstick was one of those little things that made me feel finished.

Feminine.

Put together.

Like myself.

And gradually, I stopped wearing it.

Not because I stopped liking lipstick.

Because I stopped liking what lipstick showed me.

BEFORE YOU KEEP READING

I should probably tell you why I'm even writing this.

A few months ago, my son got married.

Big family wedding.

Beautiful venue.

Photographer everywhere.

And I wore lipstick.

Real lipstick.

Not clear balm.

Not “basically nude” gloss.

Actual rosy colour.

I ate.

I talked.

I laughed.

I smiled for pictures.

And for the first time in years...

I didn't spend the entire day thinking about my lips.

I wasn't checking the mirror every half hour.

I wasn't pressing my lips together to feel for flakes.

I wasn't wondering if the colour had collected in all the dry little lines again.

I wasn't hiding my smile when someone pulled out a camera.

And when the pictures came back?

I didn't zoom straight into my mouth looking for everything that was wrong.

I just thought:

There I am.

And no.

I didn't get filler.

I didn't get some expensive treatment.

I didn't discover a $60 lipstick.

I didn't scrub my lips every night.

I didn't start drinking three litres of water.

The thing that changed my lipstick takes about 10 minutes.

And strangely enough...

It happens before I even put the lipstick on.

I'll explain.

I was doing everything I was “supposed” to do

Dry lips?

Use balm.

Still dry?

More balm.

Really dry?

Sleep in a thick lip mask.

Lipstick catching on flakes?

Exfoliate.

That was basically the advice I had heard my entire life.

So that's what I did.

I had lip balm everywhere.

Handbag.

Nightstand.

Bathroom.

Kitchen junk drawer.

Probably one rolling around the bottom of my car right now.

And I wasn't buying the cheap ones anymore either.

Once you get frustrated enough, you start upgrading.

The little pots.

The fancy oils.

The “overnight treatments.”

The ones at Sephora that cost more than a decent bottle of wine.

And here's why I kept buying them:

They worked.

Sort of.

You put them on and your lips immediately feel softer.

Smooth.

Comfortable.

You think, “Finally.”

Then a little while later...

Dry again.

So you put more on.

And more.

And more.

And because it feels good when it's on, you assume you're fixing the problem.

I certainly did.

But every time I went back to lipstick?

Same thing.

Colour catching on dry patches.

Flakes showing through.

Lines looking deeper.

So then I tried scrubs.

Sugar scrubs.

Washcloths.

Those little exfoliating sticks.

Sometimes I'd just pick at the dry bits myself.

Which I know I shouldn't admit.

But if you've ever had one tiny piece of skin ruining your lipstick, you know exactly how tempting it is.

I'd get the flake off.

My lips would look smoother for maybe twenty minutes.

Then they would feel irritated.

Tight.

Dry.

And what would I do?

Put balm over them again.

So my routine became:

Scrub.

Balm.

Lipstick.

Dry patches.

More balm.

Repeat.

For years.

Then my son announced his wedding

Obviously I was thrilled.

I cried.

My husband cried.

Everyone cried.

Then once the excitement settled, I started thinking about the day itself.

The dress.

Hair.

Shoes.

Family flying in.

People I hadn't seen in years.

And...

Photos.

Lots and lots of photos.

Professional ones.

The kind you don't get to retake seventeen times.

The kind that end up framed in someone's house for the next twenty years.

And somewhere in all of that, I started thinking about lipstick again.

I wanted to look nice.

I wanted some colour in my face.

So I did what I always did.

Bought another lipstick.

It was advertised as creamy and hydrating.

The colour was gorgeous.

Soft rose.

Exactly what I wanted.

I put it on.

And there they were.

Every little dry patch.

Every line.

Every rough edge.

I wiped it off.

Tried balm underneath.

Too slippery.

Tried less balm.

Still patchy.

Tried lip liner.

Now I just had beautifully outlined dry lips.

I stood way too close to the mirror and thought:

Maybe I should just stop trying.

And this is going to sound dramatic because it's lipstick.

I know.

But it wasn't really about lipstick.

It was one more tiny thing that seemed to be moving into the category of:

“Things that aren't for me anymore.”

Short skirts.

Certain haircuts.

Certain colours.

And now lipstick.

It made me sad.

Not devastated.

Just quietly sad in that way aging sometimes surprises you.

Nobody tells you it's often the little things.

So I Googled the same thing every woman eventually Googles

“Best lipstick for dry lips over 60.”

Then:

“Lipstick for mature lips.”

“Why does lipstick look bad on dry lips?”

“How to stop lipstick sticking to flakes?”

I read articles.

Watched videos.

Added three more products to carts I thankfully never bought.

And then I landed in a comment section.

I don't even remember where anymore.

But I remember the woman.

She said she was 64.

And somebody had asked what lipstick she used because her lips looked so smooth.

Her answer was basically:

“Stop worrying about the lipstick. Prep your lips first.”

That annoyed me.

Because I thought:

Lady, I DO prep my lips.

I've spent a small fortune “prepping” my lips.

Then she explained what she meant.

She said she had spent years putting balm over dry, rough skin and wondering why lipstick still looked rough.

Because balm wasn't actually preparing the surface.

It was just coating it.

And she wrote one sentence that I could not get out of my head:

“You wouldn't paint over a peeling wall and blame the paint.”

Well.

There went my entire bathroom drawer.

Because suddenly I could see exactly what I'd been doing.

I had spent years buying better paint

Think about it.

If the surface of your lips is rough, flaky and uneven...

Then you put lipstick over it...

Where exactly do you think the colour is going to go?

On top of the rough, flaky, uneven surface.

Of course it looks uneven.

Of course the colour grabs onto certain areas.

Of course dry patches suddenly become ten times more visible.

And yet every time that happened...

I blamed the lipstick.

So I bought a creamier lipstick.

Then a more moisturizing lipstick.

Then a different colour.

Then a gloss.

Then another balm.

Better paint.

Same wall.

And the balm thing suddenly made sense too.

Lip balm wasn't useless.

It just wasn't doing the job I thought it was doing.

It could soften.

Moisturize.

Seal.

Make my lips feel comfortable.

But if there was already rough, loose texture sitting on the surface...

I was putting balm over the texture.

Making the flakes softer is not the same thing as getting the surface ready for colour.

And then I thought about scrubs.

I'd been going too far in the other direction.

Rubbing.

Scratching.

Picking.

Trying to force the roughness away.

So apparently I had spent years bouncing between:

Coating the flakes.

and

Attacking the flakes.

There had to be something in between.

That's when I found “lip prep”

Not another lip balm.

Not another lipstick.

A prep step.

The product I kept seeing women mention was called the Lurenelle 10-Minute Lip Prep Mask.

And my first thought was:

A peel-off mask... for my lips? Absolutely not.

I'm 61.

The last thing I need is something ripping at my lips.

I pictured those old peel-off face masks that felt like removing duct tape.

No thank you.

But when I actually looked at how it worked, I realized that wasn't what it was.

The idea was simple.

You apply an even layer to dry lips.

Leave it for about ten minutes while you do the rest of your makeup.

The mask helps soften the rough, flaky surface.

Then you gently peel it away.

After that, you use the included Lip Sealing Balm to put moisture back in and keep the lips comfortable.

And suddenly there was an order to it that I had never thought about before:

PREP the surface.

Then...

SEAL in moisture.

Then...

ADD colour.

Not scrub.

Not pick.

Not coat the dryness with more and more balm.

Prepare first.

That was the part I had been missing.

I still thought it sounded like another beauty gimmick

Listen.

At my age, you've heard enough marketing.

Everything is revolutionary.

Everything is a “holy grail.”

Everything is supposed to change your life by Thursday.

So I wasn't impressed by the claims.

I went looking for complaints.

Reviews.

Pictures.

Women who weren't twenty-four years old with naturally smooth lips telling me how “obsessed” they were.

And that's what got me.

Women my age were talking about very specific things.

“My lipstick doesn't catch on the middle of my lip anymore.”

“I stopped needing to scrub before lipstick.”

“My lips still have lines, but the colour doesn't cling to them the same way.”

“My matte lipstick finally looks smooth.”

“I stopped constantly putting balm over my lipstick.”

That was different.

They weren't claiming it made them twenty again.

They weren't saying all their lip lines vanished.

They were saying:

My lipstick sits better.

That's what I wanted.

I didn't want different lips.

I wanted my own lipstick to look nice on the lips I already had.

So I ordered it.

When it arrived, I used the lipstick I hated most

Not the easy one.

Not gloss.

The problem child.

I had this rose lipstick that looked beautiful in the tube and terrible on my mouth.

It always caught on one particular dry area on my lower lip.

I had nearly thrown it away twice.

So I decided:

If this Lurenelle thing actually works, let's see it work.

That morning, I applied the Lip Prep Mask.

It felt soothing.

No gritty sugar.

No scrubbing.

No picking.

No burning.

I finished my eye makeup while it sat.

Maybe ten minutes.

Then I peeled it away.

And I want to be very careful how I describe what I saw.

My lips did not suddenly look twenty-five.

My natural lines were still there.

Of course they were.

But the roughness sitting on top of them looked different.

Softer.

Cleaner.

Smoother.

Like my actual lips were finally visible underneath the dry texture.

Then I applied the sealing balm.

Let it settle.

And reached for the lipstick.

One swipe.

Then another.

I leaned toward the mirror.

And laughed.

Actually laughed.

Because there was the lipstick I had blamed for months...

looking completely different.

Same tube.

Same colour.

Same mirror.

Same 61-year-old lips.

But the colour wasn't gripping onto that flaky patch anymore.

It looked more even.

More polished.

And here's the thing that mattered most to me:

My lines were still there.

But they looked like lip lines.

Not lip lines filled with dry, crusty lipstick.

Those are two very different things.

That's when I realized I hadn't been looking at “aging”

I'd been looking at dry texture sitting on aging lips...

and blaming the entire thing on my age.

That realization genuinely changed something for me.

Because I had slowly started treating everything I didn't like in the mirror as evidence that I was getting too old for something.

Lipstick makes me look old.

Bright colours make me look old.

Matte makes me look old.

Maybe makeup just isn't for me anymore.

But there is a big difference between:

“My lips have natural lines because I'm 61.”

and

“My lipstick is stuck in a patch of flaky skin.”

The first is life.

The second is something I can actually do something about.

And I'd spent years mixing the two together.

No wonder I felt defeated.

So I started doing one thing differently

Whenever I knew I wanted to wear lipstick, I stopped beginning with lipstick.

I started with my lips.

Lurenelle mask.

Finish my makeup.

Peel.

Sealing balm.

Then colour.

About ten minutes.

And because I'm already doing my makeup during those ten minutes, it doesn't really add much to the morning.

No aggressive scrubbing.

No hour-long routine.

No sleeping in something sticky.

And the strange part?

I stopped thinking about my lips so much.

That probably sounds like a small thing.

But if you've spent years feeling for flakes with your tongue, reapplying balm, inspecting your lipstick every time you pass a mirror...

You know.

The goal isn't to think about your lips more.

The goal is to finally stop thinking about them.

Then came the wedding

Wedding morning, I did exactly what I'd been doing.

Lurenelle first.

Then the rest of my makeup.

Peel.

Seal.

Lip liner.

Rose lipstick.

The proper one.

Not the clear gloss I'd originally planned to hide behind.

And then I went downstairs.

Family everywhere.

Noise.

Flowers.

People asking questions.

Someone looking for a safety pin.

My husband crying.

My son trying not to cry.

Normal wedding chaos.

And then the photographer appeared.

First picture.

Then another.

Then family pictures.

Then candid pictures.

At one point I caught myself starting to do my old little routine.

Press lips together.

Check dryness.

Wonder if I should go to the bathroom.

And then I realized...

I didn't need to.

So I stayed.

Later at the reception I laughed so hard at something my brother said that I forgot the camera was even there.

That photo ended up being my favourite one.

Not because my lips looked perfect.

Because I looked happy.

Really happy.

And I wasn't hiding my mouth.

That meant more to me than I expected.

I still use lip balm

I want to make that clear.

This isn't some ridiculous “lip balm is evil” story.

Lip balm has a job.

Lurenelle has a different job.

That was the thing I had misunderstood for years.

I was asking one product to do everything.

A balm can help seal in moisture and keep your lips feeling comfortable.

But if you're about to put colour over a rough, flaky surface...

the surface needs preparation too.

Now I think about it like skincare.

You don't say:

“Why cleanse? I own moisturizer.”

They're different steps.

Same with lips.

Prep.

Then seal.

Then colour.

Simple.

And no, it didn't erase my lip lines

Thank God they don't claim that.

Because that would've been the first thing to make me suspicious.

I'm sixty-one.

I have lines.

Lurenelle did not make me twenty.

What changed was what the lipstick had to grab onto.

When there's less rough, flaky texture sitting on the surface, colour looks more even.

That's it.

And for me?

That was enough.

More than enough, actually.

Because I never wanted somebody else's lips.

I just wanted to stop feeling like putting lipstick on mine was a mistake.

If you've quietly stopped wearing lipstick, read this part

Maybe you know exactly what I'm talking about.

You have three lipsticks in your drawer you barely touch.

You buy creamy formulas.

You avoid matte.

You keep a balm beside you all day.

You've tried scrubbing.

You've tried oils.

You've tried overnight masks.

And every once in a while you put on a beautiful colour...

look in the mirror...

and think:

No. That makes me look older.

Before you throw away another lipstick...

Before you decide you're “too old” for colour...

Before you buy another $30 tube promising to be more moisturizing than the last one...

Try changing the step before the lipstick.

Because you may not have a lipstick problem at all.

You may have a prep problem.

And that's why Lurenelle finally made sense to me.

It doesn't ask me to replace the makeup I already love.

It doesn't ask me to change my whole routine.

It helps prepare my lips so the products I already own have a smoother surface to sit on.

That's a very different promise.

What I wish somebody had told me ten years ago

Stop trying to moisturize over every rough patch.

Stop scrubbing your lips every time lipstick catches.

Stop assuming every line you see is something you have to surrender to.

And please...

stop blaming your lipstick before you look at what you're putting it on top of.

You wouldn't paint over a peeling wall and blame the paint.

I did the beauty equivalent of that for years.

Hundreds of dollars in lipsticks.

Balms.

Scrubs.

Masks.

Oils.

When what I really needed was a better canvas.

Right now, Lurenelle is doing its Buy One, Get One Free offer on the 10-Minute Lip Prep Mask.

And the Lip Sealing Balm is included free.

So you get:

2× Lurenelle 10-Minute Lip Prep Masks

plus

1× Lip Sealing Balm

for the current offer price.

And considering how much I've spent on lip products that ended up sitting untouched in a bathroom drawer...

I wish I'd understood this sooner.

One last thing

I don't think women our age need to be told to “look younger.”

I'm tired of that.

I don't want to look twenty-five.

I had twenty-five.

It was lovely.

I want to look like me.

Just rested.

Polished.

Feminine.

And able to wear the damn lipstick I like without feeling as though I've highlighted every dry patch on my mouth.

That's what changed for me.

I didn't get younger.
I stopped letting dry lips decide what I was allowed to wear.

So if there's a lipstick sitting in your drawer that you love but haven't worn in months...

Don't throw it out yet.

Prep your lips first.

Then put it on.

You may discover what I did:

The lipstick was never the problem.

It just needed a better canvas.

Wear the lipstick you thought you had to give up.

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